


Steve, the Sneaky Santa

by BarqueBatch



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Architect Steve, Christmas Fluff, M/M, Marvel Universe, Responsible Bucky, Security Tech Bucky, Sneaky Steve Rogers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-25
Updated: 2014-12-25
Packaged: 2018-03-03 11:28:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,840
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2849279
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BarqueBatch/pseuds/BarqueBatch
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bucky comes home to the biggest, ugliest Christmas present he's ever seen in his life... and of course, it's from Steve.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Steve, the Sneaky Santa

**Author's Note:**

> This now has a podfic by Shadow_Chasing, and I love it!!   
> [Check it out here](http://archiveofourown.org/works/7427155)!
> 
> Pure, unapologetic FLUFF because of what I just did with "Shit Mission". My teeth are aching right along with my heart because this thing is so s w e e t. I suggest heavy application of flouride toothpaste directly after reading. Mouthwash too, just to be safe. Maybe even flossing.
> 
> MERRY CHRISTMAS KIDDOS! :) xoxox

Bucky stared at the monstrosity in his living room. It was wider than the tree, and too tall to actually fit under said tree. It was also wrapped in what was, quite possibly, the strangest decorative paper he’d ever laid eyes upon.   
  
“Steve!”   
  
There was no answer from his blond studmuffin extraordinaire, so Bucky set his keys down on the table, rather than upon their designated hook by the door, and inched closer. Bucky scratched absently at his chest as he walked around the front perimeter of the box like a wary cat. Sure enough, there was a tag on the side closest to the closet with his name written upon it. It was Steve’s manly, yet artistic scrawl.   
  
“Stevie…? You home?”   
  
Steve’s car was in the driveway, but that didn’t mean anything. Steve also had a beat up motorcycle that he dearly loved, one that Bucky was actually enjoying slowly restoring for him, but Bucky hadn’t peeked into the garage to see if it was missing. Steve also liked to go running sometimes to clear his head when one of his clients was being difficult. Bucky had never realized just how demanding people could be over architecture. Steve had a knack for working through that to come up with designs that were really starting to turn heads. He’d just paid off his student loan at the beginning of the year, so they’d finally started living really comfortably in the two-story house Steve’s mother left him. Bucky actually liked living in the same place where they'd practically grown up together. The utility room door frame still bore tick marks noting their yearly heights; Bucky's being much taller than Steve's until they hit their junior year of high school and Steve's body decided it was finally time to blossom. Neither of them had any plans to paint over the marks.   
  
Despite all that, Bucky had been in quite the funk the last two weeks. Getting laid off from his job at HydraTech had been devastating. He’d never lost a job before, although this wasn’t the same as being fired, thank God. His boss, Mr. Pierce, was no peach to work for, but computer security was something that came easily to Bucky. The money had been a godsend while Steve paid off his loan and hustled to gain clients. Now that people were coming to Steve for more than just high-end blue collar homes, life was pretty damn good.   
  
It still was, if Bucky could get past his bitterness and pride. He hated that he’d been let go at the end of the year when it was damn near impossible to snatch up a new job. He hated even more that he felt like he wasn’t pulling his weight now, despite Steve giving him a laundry list of home improvement projects to take care of over the holidays. He could play Bob Villa with the best of ‘em, but it was just Steve giving him something to do until listings started showing up online again, and he knew it. Whatever though. It’s not like they hadn’t planned on re-doing the rec room anyway. It’s just that he’d looked forward to doing it with Steve.   
  
Bucky heard the rough roar of Steve’s bike and smiled. For all his sourpuss mood lately, that sound never failed to lift the weight in his chest. He sat down at the table and crossed his arms, quirking a brow at the door and affecting a look of consternation. Steve strolled in from the garage entry and dutifully hooked his keys by the door. He turned as he was pulling his jacket and scarf off. How he didn’t freeze was anyone’s guess, but Steve seemed immune to frigid air. All it seemed to do was invigorate him, while everyone else just daydreamed of fireplaces, warm blankets and hot chocolate.   
  
His eyes met Bucky’s and he smiled brightly, hanging his coat up in that habitually tidy way that sometimes drove Bucky up the wall. But only a little.   
  
“Hey,” he grinned, but paused by the couch when his only response from Bucky was a solitary index finger pointed at the behemoth box to his left. “What?”   
  
“Exactly,” Bucky sputtered. “What the actual fuck is this?”   
  
“Your present?” Steve shifted, resting his hands upon his hips and blinking owlishly at Bucky, who raised his other brow expectantly. Steve’s eyes just got wider as he shrugged. The man still had a ridiculously boyish face for being 28 but, despite what their 82-year-old neighbor lady believed, was anything but innocent. Miss Clara only believed Steve was an overgrown angel because she couldn’t hear anymore and slept like a log at night.   
  
“Don’t do the innocent doe eyes thing at me, Steve. I actually sleep with you, so I know better. What the hell is this? We said we weren’t gonna do big presents this year since we’re not sure when I’ll pick up a new gig.”   
  
“Oh…” Steve sighed, looking relieved. “No worries. It’s totally fine.”   
  
“It’s totally not. _Steve!_ ”   
  
“What?!” Steve threw up his hands plaintively. “I’m telling you it’s fine, Buck. Just trust me!”   
  
“But I just got you something really small and sappy,” Bucky whined indignantly. “Now I feel like shit!”   
  
“It’s not a contest, Bucky,” Steve sighed with a roll of his shoulders as he approached. He ran his fingers through the side of Bucky’s hair and smiled again, that stupid, gorgeous smile that melted Bucky’s resolve every fucking time. “Don’t get riled up over it, okay? I promise it’s good. You’re really going to be okay with this.”   
  
Bucky tried for one last scowl. “It looks like a Nine Inch Nails album threw up on it, Steve,” he muttered, casting a sideways look at the grey, silver, and black wrapping paper. The strange graphics on it looked like Santa went goth and had a seance with his reindeer.   
  
“Hey, I designed that paper myself, you ungrateful little jerk,” Steve protested, though his attempt at seeming truly offended failed miserably. “See if I bestow you with any of my artwork anymore!”   
  
“But what _is_ it?”    
  


“You’ll see in the morning,” Steve laughed. Bucky groaned, standing up to give the box an experimental shake. To his horror, he couldn’t even budge it. He glanced back with eyes like saucers. Even his burly boyfriend wouldn’t be able to pick this up.   
  
“‘The fuck, Steve!”   
  
“What?”   
  
“How did you even get this in here? I can’t even move it! How am I supposed to unwrap it when I can’t even lift it?”   
  
“Maybe you should’ve gone to the gym with me more,” Steve teased, then barked out a laugh when Bucky turned and slugged him hard. “Ow! Okay, maybe not,” he giggled, rubbing his shoulder.   
  
“You’re big, Rogers, but I can still kick your punk ass.”   
  
“I’m not arguing,” Steve allowed, causing Bucky’s chest to puff a little.   
  
“Seriously what is it, Steve? Knowing you, you got me some vintage knitting loom to add to my hobbies until I find a job,” Bucky half-joked, almost afraid it actually was something similarly misguided. It earned him a loud guffaw from Steve, which was actually well worth any awkward gift he might be getting in the deal. Steve’s genuine laughter could melt snow; Bucky was certain of it.    
  
“Damn it, Buck, I really need new sweaters though!”   
  
Bucky flipped him off, and it just made Steve laugh harder. He finally held his hands up and grinned, way too proud of himself. “I’m not saying shit. It’s Christmas Eve, Bucky. You can wait a few more hours.”   
  
“Steeeeeve!”   
  
“Yeah, that works on me about as much as my doe eyes work on you,” Steve chuckled, pulling Bucky close. He cupped Bucky’s jaw and teased his nape with his fingertips, his expression gaining just enough heat to have Bucky’s stomach flipping wildly.   
  
“I already got us dinner before I went for my ride… Let me feed you some really amazing shepherd’s pie straight from Peggy’s kitchen, and then I promise I’ll keep you distracted until at least midnight.”   
  
They’d known each other since they were snot-nosed kids, but Bucky still went weak in the knees when Steve focused this kind of attention upon him. He’d built up resistance to the doe eyes, but not this. Never this.   
  
“I… yeah. Yeah, okay…”   
  
His reward for ditching his sourpuss mood was a kiss that stole his breath, and frankly most of his appetite. They ended up getting roughly three bites a piece of the shepherd’s pie before Bucky couldn’t take it anymore and pushed Steve up against the fridge.   
  
Bucky would have to check later to see if two hours was safe to leave the leftovers sitting out on the counter.   
  
___________________________________________   
  
Bucky woke to a growling stomach and Steve nuzzling the back of his neck. Steve’s voice was still scratchy with sleep, but the insistent throb against the cleft of Bucky’s ass was anything but groggy. Bucky smiled and ignored his stomach as he reached back to tug wantonly at Steve’s hip. He no longer cared about intimidating, mysterious boxes.   
  
___________________________________________   
  
This time, when Steve woke him up, Bucky was pretty sure his stomach was eating itself just to spite him and his libido. True to his protective nature, Steve couldn’t allow that to happen.   
  
“Buck…? Your stomach has been serenading me for the last forty minutes, baby.”   
  
“Then feed me,” Bucky grunted, too warm and pleasantly sore to move, even if his gut was launching into what might actually be “The Nutcracker Suite”. Steve just giggled softly and bit Bucky’s bicep. Bucky shivered with an appreciative groan. One more set of teeth marks to hide beneath long sleeves was just fine considering it was below freezing outside.Bucky opened one eye toward their window and smiled. It wasn’t dawn yet, but there was a soft glow trying to gain purchase in the sky, and big, fat, fluffy snowflakes were falling silently past the window pane. It was perfect.   
  
Steve returned a bit later with oatmeal, scrambled eggs, bacon, toast, and coffee that pulled Bucky from his stupor with drooling eagerness.   
  
“We’ve been going about this all wrong, Steve,” he muttered, inhaling the promising scent of caffeine. “We shoulda sold your coffee blending technique to Starbucks, then we could be holed up in Tahiti right now.”   
  
“But we’d miss the snow,” Steve protested with a faux pout, “and besides, I have magic hands and family secrets. It wouldn’t work for anyone else.”   
  
“I can attest to magic hands,” Bucky agreed before taking a grateful sip of coffee. The warmth settled into his stomach, and he sighed out the type of bliss only a coffee drinker can know. His nose twitched toward the oatmeal, and he hummed. The oats were creamy and garnished with nuts and dried fruit, and Bucky’s mouth watered.    
  
“That’s it. Fuck architecture,” he declared boldly, scooping up a spoonful and blowing across it. “Let’s just open a diner so you can just feed me all the time.”   
  
“I’m pretty sure we’d be broke within a month because feeding you would be a full time job,” Steve grinned between bites of his scrambled eggs. “You eat more than I do sometimes… Careful, that’s pretty much hotter than the face of the sun still.”   
  
“How dare you taunt me with oatmeal I can’t eat immediately,” Bucky huffed, but continued to cool the spoon with slow breaths.   
  
“Damn the boiling water method,” Steve giggled.   
  
____________________________________________________________

“For the love of God, Buck, just _open it_ ,” Steve laughed loudly with his head falling to the back of the couch.   
  
Bucky circled the box again, tapping his lower lip. He ignored Steve’s directive to poke at a corner of the box experimentally.   
  
“Shush, you. This needs to be approached with care.”   
  
“Because it’s a box,” Steve retorted drily.   
  
“Because I trust you about as far as I can throw your punk ass,” Bucky countered. “You’ve got something rigged inside this fucker, I just know it.”   
  
“Nothing rigged, I promise,” Steve beamed, taking a sip of his hot chocolate. Bucky saw the amusement in his eyes from his peripheral.   
  
Unable to stand the suspense any longer, Bucky started ripping away the paper and pulling off the packing tape. He opened up the box and looked inside.   
  
“Are you seriously fucking kidding me,” he gaped over his shoulder at Steve, who managed to keep a straight face as he took another sedate sip of cocoa.   
  
Inside the enormous box was one significantly smaller box sitting atop a stack of cement blocks.   
  
“You are the biggest fucking jerk in the history of douchey jerks, Rogers,” Bucky howled in protest, even though he was inwardly applauding the cleverness.   
  
“No, jerk is your territory, remember?” Steve just smiled over at him as if he were amused by an article in the paper. It must have been killing him not to break into his characteristic, open-mouthed barks of laughter as Bucky picked up the smaller box and stalked across the living room to fling himself dramatically onto the couch. He held up the box for Steve’s inspection with narrowed eyes.   
  
“Yes, that’s the box I wrapped,” Steve nodded serenely. Unlike the larger box, it was covered with traditional Christmas paper in alternating diagonal stripes of matte navy blue, and metallic silver. An elegant silver bow with light blue ribbons garnished the top. It was about the size of a watch box, which confused Bucky because Steve already gave him a watch for his birthday back in March.   
  
Knowing he wasn’t going to get any other clues from Steve, Bucky pulled carefully at the ribbon binding the lid to the box itself. When he opened the box, his expression fell in confusion.   
  
“Keys.”   
  
“Uh huh!” Steve licked a bit of cocoa from his thumb and reached inside the box to hold them up proudly. “You’re always complaining that you can’t remember which key goes to which door, so I got you a new set with different patterns. Cool huh?”   
  
Bucky’s mouth fell open and, while he was touched by the thought behind the vibrant graphics on the keys, he couldn’t believe he just went through hours of crazy guesses over… keys. He couldn’t believe Steve let him wind himself up over it… though in fairness, he’d tried to warn Bucky that the gift was no big deal. It was meant to be something fun and still stick to their agreement of no expensive gifts.   
  
“Thanks, babe,” he smiled, taking the keys from Steve and leaning in for a kiss.   
  
Why was he just  not  surprised when Steve finally broke into snorting giggles in the middle of the kiss?   
  
“What,” Bucky sighed as he sat back and watched Steve literally start crying with laughter. “Alright, you got me. You really did. I totally appreciate your ability to snow me over for hours this year.”   
  
That just made Steve laugh even harder, but eventually he calmed and wiped at his ruddy cheeks.   
  
“Oh, Buck,” he sighed, thumbing away the moisture from the corners of his eyes. He turned sideways on the couch so he could lean into Bucky for a kiss.   
  
“I fucking love you, you know that,” he murmured as he pulled away from the kiss, his expression dramatically changed as he held up a tiny box, “and I’m not gonna get you keys for Christmas, no matter how cool they actually are.”   
  
No paper. No bows. No tricks. Just a tiny black box.   
  
Bucky’s heart nearly broke the sound barrier as it started racing inside his chest.   
  
He reached out with shaking fingers to take the box from Steve. He gently levered the lid open and stared at the simple titanium band with a tiny, lone diamond set in the center. He shifted it to see the engraving on the side and fumbled the box into his lap. Swearing softly, he picked it up and eased the band from the box.   
  
_ ‘Til the end of the line ~S _

  
“You said you didn’t think you’d be good at marriage,” Bucky stuttered, barely able to squeak the words out.   
  
“Probably won’t,” Steve shrugged. “I mean I buys keys for Christmas and hide presents from my psychic gift-guesser of a boyfriend inside stacks of cement blocks. I ride a bike that’s probably technically only held together by my sheer will alone, and I serve oatmeal that’s too hot for consumption…”    
  
He smiled sweetly at Bucky as he took the ring and held it up in traditional askance. “Was kinda hoping you’d do me the honor anyway though…”   
  
Bucky could only gape at Steve for a moment before he pulled Steve in for a sniffly kiss.    
  
“You big, fucking _punk_. You’re such a fucking punk,” Bucky whispered as he covered Steve’s mouth with adoring kisses.   
  
“That a yes…?” Steve ventured hopefully.   
  
“Put the fucking ring on my finger, Rogers, before I kick your hot, sneaky, little ass,” Bucky growled, climbing into Steve’s lap.   
  
The sweater still wrapped for Steve was promptly forgotten for a few hours.   
  
____________________________________________   
  
Steve was frowning two mornings later when Bucky shuffled into the kitchen. He’d gone out early to pick up their marriage license. The one he’d applied for on their behalf earlier in the month so it would be ready when Bucky said yes. Their plan was to have the minister that baptized Bucky as a kid marry them on New Year’s Eve.   
  
But Steve was frowning, and Bucky felt a twinge of fear roll through his gut.   
  
“What’s wrong? I thought you went to pick up our license?”   
  
Steve looked up from his laptop. “What? Oh! Yeah, babe, I got it. No worries.”   
  
“Okay,” Bucky brightened despite his concern. They were getting married in four days. They could deal with anything else just fine. He walked behind the couch and started rubbing Steve’s shoulders. “Why the frown?”    
  
“My car’s acting up, but I think it’s something bigger than you can do here. Might be the transmission.”   
  
Bucky looked over his shoulder at a listing of mechanics in the area, but Steve closed the browser before he could tell which one Steve had picked. He patted Bucky’s hands and looked up.   
  
“Follow me over there so I can drop it off? It’s not that far.”   
  
“Sure,” Bucky agreed readily. “Want me to listen to it first?”   
  
“Nah,” Steve shrugged. “I’ve picked up a few things from you, enough to be pretty sure.”   
  
“Okay,” Bucky shrugged back and pecked Steve’s lips. “Just have them shoot me an estimate before they do anything?”   
  
“Of course,” Steve smiled, then climbed off the couch to grab his jacket and keys, which reminded Bucky of something.   
  
“Oh hey,” he grimaced, sort of hating to bring it up, “can we stop by Home Depot after? I think they need to re-do my house key. It doesn’t work.”   
  
“Do the others?”   
  
“Uh huh,” Bucky nodded, wrapping his scarf loosely around his neck. “Just the house key.”   
  
“Okay, we can do that,” Steve nodded.   
  
__________________________________________   
  
Bucky eyed the small, industrial building with dismay and confusion. He looked over at Steve, who looked a little concerned also but, as usual, was silently pondering with his his chin jutted out.   
  
“Did you get the wrong address...? Cuz this place is empty.”   
  
“Don’t think so,” Steve frowned. He looked in the window, and then stepped back to wipe the dirt from the sides of his hands. “No, I’m sure this is the right place.”   
  
“Babe, there’s no one here,” Bucky reasoned. “Get your phone out and check the address again… or maybe they moved and haven’t updated the listing…?”   
  
“Nope, it’s the right address,” Steve declared stubbornly. He walked to the door and held out his hand. “Hey, Buck… gimme your new keys. I wanna try something.”   
  
“We are not getting arrested for B&E four days before our wedding, Steve.” Bucky shoved his hands into his coat pockets and bounced from foot to foot in the cold.   
  
“Buck, c’mon!”   
  
“No!”   
  
“Oh my _God_ , Buck just…” He all but tackled Bucky, cornering him against the side of the building, and digging his hand into Bucky’s pocket. He grinned with wicked triumph as he jingled the keys in the air. Before Bucky could snatch them away, he turned toward the door and wiggled his arm around. Bucky could hear the doorknob jiggle, and he glanced around nervously for any cops. His eyes widened as he heard the door actually open, and his head snapped around to stare at Steve.   
  
“Jesus, the stress has finally knocked you straight off your rocker, hasn’t it?”   
  
Steve just grinned Cheshire at him and pushed the door further open. Bucky squinted inside, but a few lights flickered on overhead when Steve flipped a switch by the door.    
  
Bucky’s mind scrambled even more as he stared at the sole object inside the empty room. The floor was shiny, grey concrete, and there was cabinetry and shelving already built into the walls. An enclosed area in the back looked like it would serve as a small office. The place looked like it’d been used as a garage prior, but it was gutted save the one object in the middle of the floor.   
  
“Steve…? Why is your bike here?”   
  
Steve pushed his hands into his jeans pockets and walked slowly around his vintage bike. He reached out to tap the handlebars, then shrugged shyly at Bucky.   
  
“Thought maybe I could be your first official customer.”   
  
“Huh?”   
  
Steve threw his hands out and smiled sheepishly. “Merry Christmas two days late…?”   
  
“Huh?” Bucky blinked at Steve, convinced he really had lost his mind. “You gave me a Christmas present,” he frowned, holding up his left hand where the ring he’d refused to remove still rested upon his third finger, despite them not being official yet.   
  
“Yeah, but I got you one more that I couldn’t actually give you until the cleaning people were done with it… and, ya know… my bike made it here…”   
  
“I’m so confused, Steve.”   
  
Steve grinned and walked over to shut the door behind them and pull Bucky further into the space. “This was a repair shop before, but the owner had an emergency situation where he and his family had to move out of state. It’s already set up to have your own shop, Buck! You can change whatever you like, but it’s already got a spot where you can put a desk and computer and paperwork… You’ve already got a lot of tools of your own, and we can apply for a small business loan for you to get more equipment… and I can help with painting on gas tanks and fenders if you want…”   
  
“Whoa, whoa, whoa,” Bucky muttered, his eyes still glazed with confusion. “Are you saying you… you _bought_ this place?”   
  
“Dirt fucking cheap, baby,” Steve grinned, placing a kiss to Bucky’s temple.   
  
“For _me_ … You bought me a… a garage…”   
  
“Technically a shop, I think. Yeah, I think this is a step up from a garage.”   
  
“How…? We can’t afford this yet,” Bucky fretted, afraid to even step away from Steve and really look around, because he was already seeing possibilities.   
  
“Actually, we can,” Steve assured him. “I landed the hotel.”   
  
Bucky’s eyes bulged as he turned to gawk at Steve. “When?!”   
  
“A month ago,” Steve winced, but held up his hands as Bucky’s jaw dropped, “but I didn’t say anything because I already knew what I wanted to do with some of the money if I got it. I started looking around, and found this place. I worked it out with the owner; he had a second guy lined up on the off chance that I didn’t win the hotel contract... but… _I did_ … because I’m a badass architect.”   
  
“Steve, this is too much… I… I don’t even know the first thing about running a business!”    
  
Steve pushed his hands back into his pockets, and rocked back and forth on his feet as he pooched his lips outward in thought.   
  
“Good thing you don’t have a job right now, huh?” Steve rolled his head to look over at Bucky. “Lots of time to do all kinds of research… while you wait for that third coat of paint to dry in the rec room…”   
  
He just managed to dodge the fist that swung at his bicep.   
  
Bucky crossed his arms over his chest as he fought back the feeling of being completely overwhelmed. He shivered as his breath froze in the winter air. Steve was putting a lot of faith in him and he wasn’t sure he could live up to that kind of expectation.   
  
“I don’t know if I’m cut out for this, Steve-”   
  
Bucky was pulled sideways by his coat sleeve until he was flush against Steve’s side. His fiance turned him, then cupped his face in his gloved hands.   
  
“Bucky, you can do anything you decide you want to do. You’re so fucking smart, and you love tinkering with my bike. The guy I bought it from told me it wasn’t even worth fixing up, but I’m riding the damn thing around. That’s all you, and I know you weren’t really happy at HydraTech. They treated you like shit there. I just want to see you doing what makes you happy. You can do this, baby. I know you can.”   
  
He kissed Bucky’s lips and pressed their foreheads together. “If it makes you feel better somehow to pick up a part-time job somewhere, fine… but we really are okay. It’s not gonna cause us any hardship if you throw your whole focus into this place.” He pulled back and laughed. “Besides, we get better tax status now since we’re getting married. The tax break alone will make it smooth sailing.”   
  
Bucky gripped Steve’s wrists and held onto his fiance as he looked over the boyish face he loved more than anything in the world.    
  
“I still don’t know how the hell you got this by me,” he smiled, awed by the man before him.   
  
“I’m an amazing, astounding fiance, that’s how,” Steve joked. He stroked Bucky’s jawline with his thumb and sobered. “It also helped that you were seriously moping about being out of a job. I know I didn’t seem like I was taking your mood to heart, but I really just saw it as fate. If you hadn’t been laid off, I would have told you to quit soon anyway. Money isn’t worth that kind of crap, Bucky. I want people to appreciate you, and how smart and talented you are.”   
  
“You’ll really help me with the tanks…?”   
  
“As much as I can, yeah. You might have to sub some work out if you get a lot of customers lined up. Just depends on how busy I get at work… but definitely I can do things on the weekends and when it’s slow.”   
  
He gestured to his bike with a nod of his head. “Once I do the tank on that, you can use it to start a website and work up a portfolio. I can sketch up some other pieces geared toward tanks for that as well. I’ll have time to do that while you do your business homework about what you’re gonna need.”   
  
Bucky’s head was swimming with so many emotions that he felt dizzy, but one kept floating to the top above all the others.   
  
“Jesus, Stevie, I love you and your ridiculous fucking elaborate schemes.”   
  
“So then… I don’t have to tell the guy to hit up the second buyer…?”   
  
“Hell no,” Bucky breathed, grabbing Steve’s face and kissing him until they were gasping. Steve looked down at him with such sweetness behind his eyes, but also mischief.   
  
“Still wanna stop at Home Depot?”   
  
“Fuck no,” Bucky snapped, pressing his face into Steve’s neck to bite the skin there. He didn’t care about leaving a mark. They had until New Year’s for the marks to disappear.   
  
“I wanna go home so I can fuck my amazing, astounding fiance senseless. Technically, I just became his boss, so I can demand things like that now.”   
  
“I’ll try to be an accommodating employee,” Steve promised, nuzzling the top of Bucky’s head.   
  
“Hey, can I have a blow job behind my desk when I get one?”   
  
Steve seemed to ponder the idea. “As your sole current employee, I think I’d be remiss in my duties if I didn’t.” He smiled against Bucky’s hair. “We should christen the whole place before it opens.”   
  
“Brown-noser,” Bucky accused with a laugh. “You’re gonna go far with this company, pal.”   
  
“Well I _am_ ambitious,” Steve shrugged with a shit-eating grin.   
  
“Take me home, Rogers,” Bucky sighed contentedly. “We’ve got things to do.”   
  
“What about your car?” Steve asked with a chuckle as Bucky mouthed open kisses up his neck.   
  
“Take mine. Yours is having transmission issues so we should just pull it in here and leave it for the night… besides, I wanna get handsy with ya on the way home,” Bucky growled against his skin.   
  
“You got it, boss,” Steve whispered into Bucky’s ear.

**Author's Note:**

> Feedback makes my day! Leave it here or on tumblr:  
> http://barquebatch.tumblr.com/

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [[Podfic] Steve, the Sneaky Santa](https://archiveofourown.org/works/7427155) by [BarqueBatch](https://archiveofourown.org/users/BarqueBatch/pseuds/BarqueBatch), [shadow_chasing](https://archiveofourown.org/users/shadow_chasing/pseuds/shadow_chasing)




End file.
